The Inconceivable Outcomes of Harmless Hunting
by Jonel
Summary: THIS IS UNDER HEAVY REVISION, what you see inside won't be the same once the new version is complete!
1. Bait

**This is my first fanfiction I'm actually posting online (not my first ever written) it's random, I thought of it at midnight last night. Not quite done, but no I don't own Fable 3 or anyone in it. **

**Tell me what you think… :]**

Albion's newly appointed Hero Queen felt that the high placed sun and faint nippy chill meant that today was a fine day to go hunting for Balverines. While Rummaging through the woods at the base of one of Mistpeak's highest mountains a smile tugged at her heart shaped lips as Hobson; who she brought along simply for the amusement of watching him scream like a little girl, tripped over a thin stump embedded in the iced soil, his wide frame toppled over dirtying his finely pressed red suit. "Oh Hobs…" she muttered with a roll of her eyes "You must consider loosing weight for you may just roll down a hill someday!"

Hobson struggled to pick himself up, his chubby hands freezing as they sunk into the loose soil surrounding them, "I shall consider your majesty, but it is so hard these days…" the Queen snorted and raised her gun level with her shoulders "Go find me a Balverine to kill, would you?" she flicked an eyebrow at him and winked while giving him a wry smile that drove his skin to pale. While brushing himself off Hobson replied shakily "I do believe that is what Master Reaver has just gone to do, my lady…" She waved his response off and began to stalk deeper into the woods, Hobson followed close behind being sure to stay directly in his Majesty's footsteps to avoid dirtying his shoes anymore then they already were. The Queen exhaled with boredom and finally spoke while not looking at her advisor "I plan to win _this_ round—but I cannot if you don't serve as bait…I promise I won't actually let them get you Hobson its just to lure them out!"

She heard him gasp and could feel the terrified scowl reach across his mouth. "You know if _Jasper_ were here, he'd do it in a flash—oh he was such a faithful servant!" she mused with a flattered sigh, letting her shoulders relax and her gun fall to her side for a moment then quickly spring back up to attention. Hobson's chattering breath silenced behind her, she smirked as she heard his heavy footsteps passing through the icy ground as he walked up to be several feet in front of her saying with fake confidence "I won't let you down my Queen!"

They walked cautiously for some time, hearing nothing but birds and the crackling of icicles suspended high in the treetops. Hobson was whimpering with every breath he took and the Queen stared at his shivering back with an entertained expression 'he's sure bait, being so wide and meaty…" she thought narrowing her eyes 'but where are all the damn Balverines? There's usually so many!'

Suddenly a man came running full speed and screaming from the brush to the left of them where the mountain base took a curvaceous turn inward creating a trench in the mountainside which was filled past a foot with powdery snow. He was thin with buzz cut brown hair, and was bleeding from a large gaping gash in his forehead. Hobson let out a blazing squeal, jumping away as the man passed him, not long after he bolted across their path did a large chocolate brown grit ridden Balverine the size of a three grown men come in mid lunge out of nowhere howling with teeth splattering saliva all over the pathway. The Queen hurried herself to shoot the creature but before even managing to cock her gun the sound of another pistol burst out inside the trench and the Balverine cried out, letting its claws retract and limbs go limp. It skidded to the ground inches away from where the brown haired man fell onto his face in the ice, he screamed out painfully once again at the fact his face had scraped across the frigid surface leaving it momentarily numb.

She cursed loudly, lowing her gun in an angry gesture she pulled her thick coat deeper over her chest. Hobson calmed his heart, eyes bugging out at the creature that now lay dead before them.

"Very good Landon—your talents as _bait_ are that of professional standards!"

Reaver came trudging through the snow with gun in hand; he brushed his legs free of powder and stood before the beast admiring its dirty matted fur with distaste. He looked to his new butler who was struggling to keep his hands balanced as he lifted himself up then to the Queen who was expressionless a few feet away. He smiled cheerfully while saying "Point for me!" then rested his boot against the already hardening stomach of the creature. The Queen holstered her Bonesmasher pistol and folded her arms, leaning to the side she retorted "You surely cheated…how do I know that isn't one of yours you just shot?"

He furrowed his black eyebrows "_Mine?_" Landon drunkenly made his way to his boss's side, holding the back of his head and blinking continuously as if trying to regain his vision. The Queen's eyes widened at the gaping slice across his forehead which was bleeding down his face like a mini waterfall "Oh Avo did they get you good!" she stifled an astonished laugh. "Ah!" Reaver spoke up suddenly, recalling what she had meant "My little friends, which may I remind you—you slaughtered most of them in my ballroom, are much cleaner then this brute…why ever would I associate with such a mutt?" he pushed his boot deep into the creatures stomach until he heard a rib snap, it made him laugh a little to himself. "—as for that cut on my dear Landon's face, no Balverine is responsible…"

"You did that to him? So you did cheat!"

"I didn't _cheat_, honey, I merely put some _thought_ into my strategy!"

"You don't get any points, so you're not winning…because you cheated!" Hobson backed away slightly in fear; maybe his Queen would cut his forehead to even out the score. But when she simply stood and had a brief staring contest with Reaver he was able to take a few relieving breaths. Reaver held his arms up and rolled his eyes "Why should you be the rule maker here, are we not allowed to add a little spice to this hunt?" his typical smile disappeared from his face and he put his gun away to give him time to rake his fingers through his hair adjusting its style. "I'm the Queen, my word is law!" she stuck her face up and looked at him through the bottoms of her eyes, her stubbornness brought his smile back almost instantly. "You just don't want to loose the bet, _that's_ all!" he toyed, his voice growing eager and wise; he wagged a finger at her and removed his foot from the corpse. "Landon!" the boy, now holding his cut up head trying to calm his churning stomach looked up at his Master through bloodshot eyes "yes Master Reaver?"

"You have two seconds to get that tail moving before I _make_ you!" he gave the boy a playful shove being sure to lean his chest close enough to make him nervous before Landon took off running deeper into the woods. Reaver watched him until he was barely visible through the trees then turned and stepped three wide strides to stand before the Queen "_Two_ more simple kills, and I get to see that interesting birthmark I've heard so much about that you have under that lovely blouse of yours…" he didn't hesitate to speak loud enough for Hobson to hear, his voice husky and enthralling. Holding her dominance she stared into his eyes with shaking impatience, "I _will_ win this…" she explained "that way you can't pester me with the Millfields factory idea anymore!" she poked his chest with a gloved finger and he huffed with sarcasm, grasping her hand in his he gave it a forceful squeeze "Sure, if you want to hold onto that dismal hopeless thought be my guest…but I _always_ get what I want!"

"Every _dog_ has its day!" she growled back, pushing her head upwards towards his as she said it making him back up with his own and grin wider at her playfulness. He released her hand and quickly traced her cleavage line with his finger before she had a chance to realize "I'm looking forward to _winning _again!" he purred. She shoved his chest making him back away and she cursed at him in an inaudible tone that sounded like a rumbling motor from one of his factories. Reaver bowed his head at her and turned to follow the direction in which his assistant took off; thinking in his head if there was even anything left of the poor sod to find. The Queen clenched her fist around the handle of her pistol with half a mind to shoot the bastard as he strutted away in his overpriced white coat and thick leather cuffed boots. No cane or hat today; much too hazardous a situation to put those prized items through. "Hobs…" she muttered quietly through her teeth, her voice seeming calm enough. "Yes Madam? Do you wish to go back to the carriage now?" he asked his voice full of hope. She spun on her heel and met his eyes pulling out her hunting knife in the process; motioning with a finger she coaxed softly "Come here…"


	2. An Unfit Hero

**Here's Chapter two, enjoy :]**

"Oh—Landon? Come out my dear boy,_ daddies _here to keep you safe!" Reaver followed a dim blood trail which he assumed was his butlers through various patches of plant life and ridges; the boy had run quite far in eight minutes. He heard nothing, no growls, screams, or even bones cracking under the pressure of a Balverines jaws, so he figured his employee was still alive…somewhere. He stepped atop a snow covered rock and lifted himself up to a hilly platform then began to ascend into a small clearing.

"By the _way_ Reaver!"

He turned his torso to look behind himself, down the slant he'd just climbed stood the Queen with gun drawn "Game ends when the sun is at the horizon, sorry about your factory…maybe in another _lifetime _yeah?" All she could see were the tops of his shoulders and his overly-pleased grin. She waited for his response knowing when it came to him chances of getting the last word in were eternally impossible, ignoring Hobson's fearful cries in the near distance of where she stood. Reaver shook his head and held up a single finger to taunt his winning, calling after her jubilantly "keep toying yourself dear it only makes my winning _much_ more enjoyable!" Her hazy blue eyes softened with a sense of disappointment for herself; she did tend to always loose bets. It was a curse for her, but blast her problem of not being able to stop! The thrill of trying to fulfill certain expectations in order to gain things was just so desirable, and she couldn't help but get involved in whatever silly or vulgar bet came her way. For the four months since he came back to Albion from whatever reason he left her a letter for Reaver had proved the most eligible opponent to battle against, and only now was he wagering a piece of her dignity against her own deal. Why after months of beating her did he decide to finally do what she figured he'd try on the first bet? She shook an abrupt image of the two of them in a heated moment of passion out of her head, smacking her temple with the butt of her Bonesmasher. "Friggin jerk…" she grumbled into her palm, forgetting briefly he was still looking at her "Just get out of my _face_!" she screamed up at him through clenched teeth, stomping a boot childishly into the dirt. Reaver lifted his voice and gave a deep sarcastic laugh, then turned and disappeared from her view "_**Hobson**_!" she shrieked, her voice sounding unholy and deadly. She spun to face where he had been meandering through a patch of oak trees to find him missing from site, her eyes widened with a feeling of worry "Hobson?" her voice emphasized her feelings; although he was a waste of space in her opinion she still would have felt bad if she came upon his gutted body.

Snow flurried from a treetop ten feet in front of her, she looked up instinctively and tried to glimpse through the branches and leaves to see what was causing it. "Balls…" she whispered under her breath, something she found herself doing frequently since the Crawler. No doubt a habit picked up from Walter. The Queen hesitated to move from her place in an opener part of the woods where the treetops gave way to the murky sky, if there was a Balverine up there it would show no mercy to leap onto her and tear her face clear off.

"Well…I'll be a Bloodstone Hooker!" Reaver's eyebrows fell inward as he came upon a passed out (not dead) Landon entangled in a stubby unkempt hedge bush, blood all over his clothing and face. "Third one in two months…will there _ever_ be a time when the word _decent_ can be associated with the word _staff_?" fearing to reach down and pull the boy up he simply shoved a boot against his thigh with brute force making the exhausted butler awaken with a howl of pain as his leg went dead. "Did I not mention my team spirit awards to you—the first rule rather—I do believe you just won it…" he explained, his voice twisting around Landon's throbbing head like a snake, alls that was left was for it to squeeze. "I'm sorry sir! I—ran as fast as I could and—and, pl-p-please I'll get up and get another Balverine for you! Right away-just don't—shoot me!" Reaver relaxed his trigger finger as Landon's words sunk in; he was right, shooting him now would only make things difficult…he'd shoot him _later_.

Landon made his way to his feet and wiped a fresh layer of warm blood from his brow. He saw his boss side step away from him as if he was some kind of walking disease; pale and coated in his own blood and sweat, purpling eyes and dry calloused lips.(who wouldn't?)

"Get a move on!" Reaver swatted his assistant to proceed his walking, making sure his Dragonstomper was perfectly visible to Landon's fairly small set of eyes, "I'm immortal and I'm _still_ getting old waiting for you!" Landon began out of the clearing in a slow jog, eyeballing every stump and frostbitten rock thinking they were Balverines, almost praying really; the sooner Reaver shot another two the sooner this charade would be over with.

"Hobson! **RUN**!"

The Queen's voice, although distant, echoed through the woods louder then her following gunshots did. Reaver turned his head as he kept walking to see a bright flashing blue light from beyond the ledge; probably the Queen setting off one of her Will spells. "My—she sounds like she's having _fun_!"

'_Not as much as I will later though_' he thought smugly.

The treetops hovering over the hillside where the Queen was blasted back with a heavy gust of smoky wind, then a string of fire started crawling its way up the trunk of a Spruce tree. He raised his eyebrows with astonishment and curiosity, forgetting Landon once more as he kept going further and further into the creature infested Mistpeak forest. He turned fully around when the muscular arm of the Queen could be seen lifting her body up onto the same rock he put his foot on earlier, she was being sure to hasten her climbing once her torso was up and she came barreling down the hill; all muscles working hard, jacket gone from her chiseled frame and intensely curly hair flowing behind her.

She peered behind herself as she neared where he stood not even realizing he was there. "What the hell are you _doing_?" he asked fleetly, holding an arm out in front of her body as she bolted past him; catching her by the chest making her lose her breath and grunt agitatedly. "Miss me _that _much?" he asked tugging her in towards himself locking her against him; her expression was that of a startled cat, not knowing what had hit her she placed her arms in front of herself managing to stop her chest from meeting his. The fur of his collar tickled her skin making her think it was a Balverine and she shot her fist instinctively upwards upper cutting Reaver under the chin. The strength in the punch sent him onto the ground, his grip on her back didn't suffice as he fell over taking her with him, the fall sent her out of her blackout and she yelped as she landed atop him straddling one of his thighs and holding onto his forearms. "Wha—?" she breathed, looking at the way Reaver was holding his entire face in his gloved hand, hiding his pained expression from her eyes. The Queen reached for her pistol in panic once remembering why she'd been running, but it wasn't there. "Reaver!—g-get-hurry!…shoot them!"

"Thshoot what, crazy bithch!" he struggled to say, he rolled his jaw around in circles and swallowed blood from his scraped gum. The sound of claws scratching their ways across the jagged mountainside finally rang in the Reaver's ears; so the Queen _didn't_ accomplish taking down whatever caused her to set the woods on fire? He'd have smiled if his mouth wasn't so sore. Still holding his face he moved a finger off his right eye and peered towards the ledge where the Spruce tree had lit three others on fire and saw four White Balverines advancing on them with muzzles pulled back revealing their massive fangs. He casually adjusted his pistol in his hand and lifted it, the Queen watched him blow two holes in three of them and a single shot in the final like it was nothing and the creatures dropped to the grass with blatant cries and whimpers. Regardless of the position she was in, the Queen sighed heavily with relief and dropped her face against Reaver's chest, at that point she was just lucky to be alive.

Reaver squeezed his chin in his palm and rolled his jaw around again, feeling the slight pain shoot up through his spine when he did so. His hand still grasped his gun, and he found himself slowly raising it to the back of the Queen's head as she panted away atop him. He paused however when her rugged but arousing voice broke the formidably awkward silence, "Sorry I hit you—thought your coat was one of them…" she rolled off of his body and sat beside him catching her breath some more. Reaver stayed flat on the soaking ground, for some reason uncaring his favorite coat was sucking in dirt "**Don't** speak to me until I regain my temper…" he said sorely, lifting his right leg up to get his pistol re-holstered in the holster around his thigh.

She looked down at him with a blank expression; what a drama queen. "Are you going to cry about it?" she asked smiling; he turned to look at her. A small dribble of blood was on his lips which were in a straight expressionless line, his green eyes were so wide you could see the perfect circles of his irises, eyebrows raised high and hair off-part just a little. "No…I am not going to _cry_…" he said sternly, lifting himself into a sitting position, taking off his gloves which were hopelessly soaked. The Queen attempted to stand but screamed out in pain, grabbing her leg she found it soaked in blood "Fuck…" she cried tearing at her pant-leg to see what was causing it. Reaver sat and listened to her complain about her pain; he was more interested in how dirty the back of his coat had gotten. He ran his hand along the fur on the back and felt it matted with dirty ice and slush; he cursed under his breath and wiped his hand off with his gloves which he'd have to throw out when he got home anyways. "Damn Balverines…" the Queen grumbled once she saw the large gash in her thigh from one of their claws striking her.

"The _Hero_ of Albion, harmed?" Reaver began to stand; giggling to himself he muttered "I'm astonished!"

He walked over to the creatures and counted them with his finger as the Queen cautiously got to her feet "Shut up, would you?" she snapped back, using the torn part of her pants to tie around her wound. "I take it your butler is dead then my Queen?" Reaver asked removing his coat to try to clean it off himself, the Queen shook her head "I don't know…I think he ran to the carriages—but I cut his arm up pretty good for bait so I'm not sure if he made it."

"Oh…I'd love to have seen that _fat_ man run for his life—I do believe I would have paid to see it in fact!" Reaver pictured the strangely framed butler running at full speed from a Balverine and laughed to himself.

"Where's your butler?" she then asked.

"I don't know, took off in that direction—he knows where I live if he wants to come back bless his little soul…"

"Reaver your not going to leave him out in this woods while I'm around!" she winced, he looked up at her and draped his coat over his arm. "I'm not scouring these woods for something I can simply replace tomorrow!" he protested, the Queen soaked in the image of him standing before her without that ridiculous coat off; he looked much more desirable, much more normal.

"Then I'll find him, he couldn't have gotten to far right?" she began to slowly limp into the woods but eventually was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. "Just go back to the _fucking_ carriages…I will find him!"

She smiled with appreciation as Reaver tossed his coat over her shoulders and began to make his way in the direction Landon had ran in, his scent overtook her; cigars and wine, and maybe even a hint of women's perfume from some previous fling. The Queen gritted her teeth and dealt with the pain of her leg as she began to walk towards the ledge, Reaver's voice stopped her, "One more thing my dear!"

"Yes?"

"Since we're going by kills…and the sun isn't on the horizon—I do believe, _I_ win!"


	3. A bet well made

The Queen hobbled out of the denser part of the Mistpeak Forrest with a hand pressed securely over the slash on her thigh; feeling its stinging embrace whenever she dared put weight on it. With every step she winced; her face scrunching together and hand tightening onto her Bonesmasher, which she'd found after making it over the hill back to where she was ambushed by the White Balverines. Hobson had already made his mad dash back to the waiting carriages on the road leading to Brightwall and he sat inside the Queen's with door open trying to nurse his forearm which would need at least a dozen stitches when back in Bowerstone. He looked up when he saw her coming and even despite the pain he was in himself bolted to his majesties aid, "Allow me to help you madam!" he offered, taking her sword and pistol from her hands. "Help me? _Get_ me my damn _Gin_ if you want to **help **me!" she snarled with eyes still on her ticket home, Hobson was quick to get back into the carriage and hunt down the bottle of alcohol she'd brought along. When he stepped back onto the frozen grass he hastily got out of the way as Reaver came out of nowhere and tossed the limp unconscious Landon into the Queen's carriage and wiped his hands together as if freeing them of invisible dirt, Hobson cradled the bottle against his chest and felt light headed at how close one of his _many_ idols was to his person. He made quick to take up the opportunity to touch Reaver, placing a hand ever so lightly against his shoulder "This isn't your carriage Master Reaver…" he said quietly, from where the Queen stood she rolled her eyes at Hobson's pathetic coyness.

Reaver stopped dead where he stood leaning slightly into the carriage and looked up at the windows on the other side thinking speechlessly "Did he really just _touch_ me?" he turned his head to get a view of the battered and intensely overweight _thing_ beside him whose eyes were beaming with a sense of wonder like he was looking at Avo himself. It flattered Reaver, deep inside his mind, but just he was a man although high in class when it came to social stature was so low in class when in it came to overall importance. He was a _butler_; he was the one who made sure the Queen didn't throw up on herself during one of her nightly alcohol binges and made sure her puppy Thatcher's business didn't sit on the carpets for to long. And _he_ had the audacity to speak, none the less _touch_ him without any form of permission?

The Queen tilted her head as she saw Reaver's hand opposite where Hobson stood clench into a tightly knitted fist, before he had a chance to send it anywhere in particular she cleared her throat loud enough for them both to hear. Hobson watched Reaver close his eyes and sigh then respond to him with shaky rage apparent in his voice "Yes, I'm quite _aware_ that this isn't my carriage...do you think me blind?—if you know what's good for you you'll never breath near me again! _Clear_?"

He snatched the bottle from the butler's hands making Hobson yelp with sudden fear, then began to walk towards the Queen while explaining with a sudden burst of glee "The lovely Queen will be accompanying me during this fine ride back into Bowerstone, you…can squeeze yourself in with the extra baggage I've just placed in there!" he waved a hand at the Queen's carriage and Hobson peered in at the bloodied man on the floor inside. He placed a hand on his damaged arm and nodded, knowing she must have lost yet another bet against him. "Here you are, my dear." He heard Reaver say to the Queen, handing her the bottle and leading her away towards his own carriage which sat near to the arches leading to Brightwall, two large anxious black horses stood at the head of it clomping their hooves into the frozen cobblestone as if they knew they'd finally be able to move from their spot. "Nervous?" Reaver asked, bending down to get his sultry breath against the Queen's reddened ear; the feeling made her squirm the side of her face into her shoulder for it tickled her.

She scoffed, "Why would I be nervous?"

"Because something tells me you only agreed to this bet because you thought you'd actually win it!"

"You technically didn't win, and no I had full knowledge of what I was getting myself into…it's only a breast anyways, not like nobody else has seen it."

"You wouldn't have won anyways my dear; you couldn't even kill _one_ Balverine! What happened to that fiery little damsel that swept through my entire guest list at that party two years ago?"

"You really want to know?" she stopped her limping just inches from the carriage and looked at him with blankness and pain in her eyes, Reaver was smiling with anxiousness. The Queen held the bottle up to his eyes and shook its contents around; it swashed dully making a wet brushing sound against the glass. "Alcohol, gambling and Ruler-ship—that's what happened to her. I can see why Logan was such a beastly piece of shit back then…I think the ale and Gin's what keeps me from falling as far into madness as he did."

"Not to mention—your brother _is_ a first class nut—my dear there's no point in trying to fool ourselves any longer!"

She laughed and agreed, "What happened to Landon anyways? Is he dead?"

"No…he's very much knocked out, but he will be dead soon enough I _assure_ you…"

Reaver's driver was waiting to open the door for the two of them, shivering uncontrollably under his thin coat. Once the Queen turned back towards the carriage he opened the door giving them both passage to the inside, she groaned with pain as she brought her leg up and sat at the farthest corner on the right side with said leg propped up taking up the entire seat beside her for obvious reasons. But Reaver had no intention of sitting beside her anyways; he'd have a better view from sitting directly in front of her. The driver closed the door, making sure to lock it from the outside as instructed by Master Reaver before leaving for the hunt; incase anyone would try to escape. He climbed up to the drivers seat and equipped himself with the reigns and whip, then waited for the Queen's carriage to start moving before he did; royal carriages always comes first, rather their in it or not.

"Now…"

The Queen bit her lip at his voice as it razored through her ears cutting up all her defenses like they were nothing but butter. She pulled his coat, still over her shoulders deeper over herself and looked ahead of herself to find his eyes creeping their way across her every feature; her broad eyes, V shaped chin and jaw, and muddied and soaked white dress shirt which did little to hide the fact her bra was dark green and laced with black silk. "Yes, _now_…" she echoed in annoyance; she felt no fear in the fact she would have to show Reaver any part of her body, what she was concerned with was how he'd go about reacting to it knowing him and his unstable sexual control. "Before I do anything…" she set her hands on her right thigh which was not slung up on the seat, she saw Reaver falter backwards into his own seat as if impatient "What?" he asked swiftly, twiddling his fingers against his knee. The carriage began to move as the Queen asked curiously "How did you hear about my birthmark anyways?"

Reaver rolled his itching eyes "I couldn't help but overhear a man talking about it when I made one of my rare visits to the Industrial pub one evening."

The Queen burst into a gentle fit of laughter "Ah the pub, too many silly stories I have from that place…" she was smiling to herself while recalling some drunken memories. Reaver eyed her closely, he'd heard many of them himself; she was quite the crazy thing when intoxicated, he'd only ever seen it twice. "Well…" she whispered bringing her hand to the first button of her blouse then moving to the second, she kept her mind on her wine cellar back at the castle and how she was going to drain it dry when she got home instead of thinking about the fact Reaver was staring at her from mere inches away. "It surprises me, you've really never seen a woman with a few birthmarks on her chest in all your years reeking havoc on females?" she asked absently, working out the third and fourth buttons. Reaver was so enthralled in how delicious the Queen's hand looked touching her cleavage he almost didn't have the mind to answer her, but when he did he sounded almost like he was robotic "Sure I have, just the fact its you makes it why I'm so anxious to see…"

As the Queen undid the final button she peered out the window to see that the carriages were nearly a half of the way to the Mistpeak Monorail station. She sighed, trying to break the awkward silence that had seemed to have fallen over the inside of the carriage despite the muffled ruckus of clattering hooves and rolling wheels outside. "Consider this bet, over!" she said bluntly, tugging the left cup of her bra down just enough to show the dark dot which was a little over a half a centimeter in diameter and mere inches away from her nipple, which was just barely visible as well, and Reaver found himself staring at that more then what the bet was originally over. The Queen was smiling nervously, she'd never done such a thing like this sober and usually when she did she was at a bar surrounded by sailors she'd never see again. Reaver's expression was expected; he had on his typical smile and his eyes were locked on the mark (or so she thought) like glue, he was still tapping his fingers on his knee out of a habit probably gained from constantly tapping his cane on the ground whenever he spoke but he didn't have it today so he resorted to the next best thing.

"Magnificent…" he muttered to her in a stunned tone, she didn't know he hadn't even really looked at the birthmark at all. "I guess it's different—" she responded looking down at it herself, Reaver slowly raised a hand towards her as if wanting to touch it. She covered herself quickly and hissed "What do you think _you're_ going to do?"

He laughed "Touch it of course, why not? It looks so _smooth_ and _taunting_!"

"Hell no, your not touching my breast, the deal was you'd get to see the mark and that's it."

"_I'm_ not? What ever is wrong with _me_?"

"Make this about yourself, why don't you?—ugh, nothing is wrong with you…your just you and I'm not letting _**you**_ touch _me_!" she folded her arms hiding her chest from his view and looked off out the window as the sign for the monorail came passing by iced over with a thin sheet of snow. She felt Reaver's eyes on her face and his always sarcastic laugh ripped through her ears again, "My dear little Queen…" he said wisely in a low playful tone. He leaned in towards her slightly, his knee coming into contact with her own "The fact that its _me_ didn't seem to bother you a few weeks ago when you were _mining_ the inside of my mouth for invisible gold with your tongue…now_ did_ it?"

Her body immediately flushed of all life, she shot him a grave glare and her mouth fell open speechlessly. The horses came to a halt just outside the cave entrance to Mistpeak Monorail and before the driver came to open the door the Queen caught her hitched breath and stammered as coolly as she could without losing her temper "…It was late…and I—was drunk, and you…drugged me."

Reaver burst out laughing and made to counter her response but stopped as the driver opened the door oblivious to what was going on inside. "We have arrived Master Reaver and your Majesty!" he said cheerfully and the Queen flicked her eyebrow at Reaver as she stepped out onto the road, re-buttoning her shirt in the process.


	4. Small talk

Following the unexpected plummet of the former Mistpeak to Millfields Monorail cart due to an abundant Hobbe problem that Logan's Royal Guard had chosen to ignore, the Monorail tunnel remained desolate for two reasons: One, the funding simply wasn't there to fix it when the Queen began her reign and two, Reaver had disappeared and only his lunatic mind would have been able to repair the vessel.

Upon returning it was in fact the first thing the Queen requested of him, and he took full interest in the matter mainly because it was one of his greatest Industrial feats and to see it wounded and not available to the peoples eyes nearly killed his ego. During the Queen's rule Albion changed drastically following the Crawler; construction was being done to a deteriorated and long deserted port beyond the dried and dwindling marshlands on the eastern most part of Albion's coast. In order for the workers to access it with their supplies and machines without traveling by sea which sometimes took days they would need to travel through Mistpeak Valley somehow, but machines can't fit on a _simple _monorail cart. Reaver Industries plotted a very incredible monorail system, which even the Queen had to admit once it was installed that it was the most impressive thing she'd seen in all in a long time. The typical passenger carts were still suspended high over the dark trench which was now patrolled regularly to prevent any more Hobbes. However many feet under the passenger cart is a second track in which a large square shaped platform travels, able to carry large machines and vast amounts of supplies, as well as two carriages at a time and stock.

"Doesn't a nice jaunt in a metal box suspended high above a cavernous ravine of pure nothingness make you want to just pleasure yourself?"

The Queen made a sound of disgust that was between a scoff and a groan. Without looking at Reaver as she staggered on towards the waiting passenger cart she responded in all seriousness, "If you ever do such a thing in my presence I will throw you out of the car."

Before even managing her final words out his always flamboyant voice picked up once more, "But—being in such a state of possible certain death, given the machine could _fall_ at any moment and knowing any second could be your last one would might as well go out with a_ bang_, am I not correct?—unless…" he somehow managed to snake his way in front of her, the Queen looked him in the eye without feeling much of anything towards the charming twinkle dancing through each of his green irises.

"-You're the kind of person that would rather appreciate spending their final moments wrapped in ecstasy with another, and that _can_ in fact be arranged my sweet!" he raised a finely trimmed eyebrow, his half grin widening along with it. The Queen cocked her head slightly to the right and began tapping a finger against her chin, battling his sarcasm with some of her own she poked his chin with the same finger and replied "I'm just going to walk away from that comment! _Walk away_!"

Reaver followed her with his eyes as she maneuvered her way around him staggering like an old woman with a hip problem, she brushed against his shoulder as she went giving him the perfect chance to engulf his face into her lush thick waves of curling hair which weren't blonde anymore…not like he recalled when she was_ much_ younger, all those years ago. No, now it was a mahogany color, with bright yellow highlights that shined in the sun, and it smelt almost irresistibly like oranges and dirt; both manly and feminine, the most perfect specimen of being to a man like him. The Queen pulled her head away absently, as if convinced she ran into a pole and not Reaver's creeping face. She proceeded to the already near packed car with intentions of squeezing herself as deep into the crowd as possible in a place Reaver wouldn't dare put his roaming mitts; in a huddle of dirty poor people.

Reaver stood for a moment longer looking around the platform at the few dozen sets of workers fresh from their shifts at the construction site of the new port; the abysmal remnants of his former 'Coastal paradise' lying askew in the dried up and partially frozen marshlands of easternmost Albion. He hadn't bothered mentioning he knew the old town quite well, upon hearing the proposal spoken in the purely business voice of the dark skinned ex-revolutionary turned Societal Overseer Page (or as he liked to refer to her: That annoying stubborn bitch) he merely laughed under his breath, thinking nothing important of it and agreed to oversee the constructions himself in his spare time. (The Queen knew upon hearing that response he really meant when he got extremely bored, which was next to never.) Meanwhile he'd leave the workers to deal with it themselves with nothing but a quick useless but threatening speech given to them the day before starting construction to go on, and a bunch of raw designs and layouts drawn in the chicken scratch of a drunk man to build with.

His attention came on the carriages that had been suspended on the stock platform; he smiled at his newest invention with expected cockiness, but narrowed his eyes at the Queen's stout little butler as he turned from the two drivers who were holding the reigns of the horses and speaking to each other and began walking towards the passenger cart where he'd probably sensed his Majesty was. "Harold, or—Henry…whatever your name is, _don't_ move!" Hobson stopped in his tracks, hand still wrapped tightly against his arm, he stiffened at the sound of Reaver's voice and turned his head politely to meet his gaze "Yes sire?"

Reaver took the final steps towards him in a quick rush and before Hobson had a chance to squeal Reaver had his Dragonstomper pressed deep into his plushy stomach, he had to bend quite low to get to the butlers eye level. "Back-the-way-you-came! Go on, before my finger slips!" he spoke swiftly and casually, like a thief trying to rob a store might if they don't want to make it obvious. Hobson's face was ruby red, it hadn't even been five seconds and he felt himself sweating like a pig and more or less looking like one to, he backtracked like mad to the carriage, where Landon still lay unconscious, and took shelter inside. "Albion is _full_ of _pussies_…" Reaver noted disappointedly under his breath, holstering his gun once again. He drove his hand through his hair and felt it actually stay where he pushed it and not fall back into its typical fluffy part, he curled his lips in disgust; damn Queen pushing him into the dirt.

_Speaking of Queen_…

Reaver spun on his heels to meet the open door of the oval shaped vessel, several pairs of tired and nerved eyes covered in dust and uplifted marsh slime gawked at his persona. He managed to keep them all in his glare as he stepped up to the edge of the platform where it met the cart, unable to see the Queen through the dozen or so people squished into the small space. "Now..." he began and all seemed to go quiet; the grinding gears, blowing steam and chattering people, quiet with fear. "As much as I do enjoy a good, sweaty man every now and again…" he fingered the hull of his pistol once more "Now is simply _not _the time! So if you'll all just—clear out of my way, real men need space to breath in such intolerably stuffy situations."

That was all it took for the cart to become empty of all but the Queen who was shaking her head disapprovingly while sipping off her Gin bottle, sitting at the farthest corner at the head of the car with Reaver's coat draped over her knees. "You're the intolerably stuffy situation Reaver, those men deserve to ride home I'm sure they've been waiting for a long time this cart does take an hour to arrive after all…"

Ignoring his Queen Reaver pulled the door shut being sure to hear the lock click from the other side, immediately after the car began its sluggish ride into the tunnel system. She turned her body and sat with her bad leg propped on the seats beside her and back to him as he sat to her left, chuckling at her gesture he rested an arm across the back of the chairs interrupting her view through the window. "There must have been a time when you had some form of civil decency…" she noted not looking at him, his fingers clenched in and out of a fist as he answered "Much to long ago for you to remember _I'm sure_!" his voice told her he was smiling which didn't surprise her much. She could feel his leg against the small of her back, the inner part of his elbow against her shoulder; her mind was careless of the facts but at the same time the feeling in her stomach was telling her he was probably going to maul her any minute now. But then again she felt that feeling every time she was around him, and the oddest thing was; he never made a move, save some slick remarks and faces. But why?

"You can lean back if you want you're Highness!"

Andddd there it was.

"I'm fine, I can't drink if I'm lying down anyways…and I think your crotch can survive without some form of pressure on it for once in its life!"

He laughed, relaxing his head on his other hand "Cute." He muttered in response "Now did you share such ruffian dialogue with that lowlife spouse of yours? Had it ever occurred to you that may be why he hates you? And must your mind be so far in the gutter? My goodness your Majesty I'm beginning to wonder if I should hose you down! "

"Lazlo and me, is none of your business…and neither is Morgan." She declared sternly, ignoring his final remark.

"Oh that's right! The young deaf prince! How was it I had forgotten? I've heard many things said about him…even put a share in myself."

"If you make fun of my son and his disability in front of me I'll hit you so hard _you'll cry_…" He laughed for a moment with doubt, and the Queen had half a mind to turn around and show him she was serious but thought better of it; as much of a sight it would have been to see Reaver cry, she didn't want to put up with the bullet to the head that would surely follow.

"One can't help but wonder about how he plans to rule Albion when he can't hear anything but his own thoughts…wait—can he even hear those? Will signing become our traditional language? B-because I _refuse_ to learn—!"

"Probably no need when it comes to you…with a voice like yours I'm sure he'll be able to hear you just fine—and that's nothing to be proud of." She interrupted coldly, but he kept up his annoying little chuckling that after some time of being rather adorable became extremely annoying. The Queen gave him time to run out of steam, holding back her defensive temper by sipping time after time on the Gin, she ran a finger up and down the slash on her leg; it was deep and wide, not bleeding but oozing with clear watery liquid that through her very gentle buzz she found fun to roll around on the balls of her fingers. Reaver pressed fingers into his eyes and inhaled back in the air he'd lost from laughing, he crossed his right leg over his left giving him a little more room to inch closer to the Queen. He peered over her shoulder as best he could given her mass of hair that was always in the way, he saw her toying with her wound as if it were something meant to be played with, he raised his eyebrows. "Morgan will never be king…" she confessed sadly "Lazlo'll never let him leave Brightwall, he's to afraid he won't be able to take care of himself…to afraid he'll try to find me…" she relaxed her hands on her thighs and sighed, watching the dark cave pass by slowly outside the window she tried to remember what her little boy even looked like.

"Children are a waste of time anyways, is being alone with the luxury of freedom to do whatever you want not the best thing you've ever had in your life?"

She scoffed, brushing all her hair back and up into a ponytail which she held as she opposed "I didn't expect you know what I meant…you've never had children of your own—ones that you were _aware_ of anyways..."

"Oh—_please_!" he rolled his eyes and waved the remark off with the hand that was still resting on the windowsill. The Queen widened her eyes, dropped her hair and quickly spun her torso around to face him, he pushed himself back a small ways and placed his hand unconsciously on his pistol.

"You can't really sit there and tell me you don't think you have kids _somewhere_, what with your inability to keep it in your pants!"

"-Any offspring I have ever fathered are long deceased now, what with the invention of the condom, I believe we can consider the problem of lone stragglers perpetually extinct!"

"I _don't_ want to hear it…" she pushed a hand against his smiling face as she turned back around, he laughed into her skin and the heat and steam of his breath made her recoil back to herself and wipe her hand across her shirt, she tore the cork off the Gin and swallowed some more.

"And what was that about not being able to keep it in my pants? I'm doing it right now aren't I?"

"Reaver! Do you _**ever**_shut up! j-just—here!" she turned and stuffed the bottle against his chest "keep yourself busy!"

Before turning back around she looked him in the face as he stared at her grinning, she placed her fingers on either side of his lips and pulled the smile down to a straight expression "stop fucking smiling—Avo, are you trying to look like a psychopath?"

Reaver took an impressive haul off the bottle keeping his face expressionless, but that fact didn't seem to make his effervescent tone die off "your as big a demanding bitch as your mother used to be, but with better taste in alcoholic beverages…and a nicer ass."

She looked back with mouth agape; luckily her skin was just tanned enough to hide the rosy color rising in her cheeks. "What do you know about my mother anyways?" she asked cautiously, her heart picked up anxious beats as he smiled delightfully. "I knew old Queen Chaser only to well—tell you what, why don't you come over once we arrive back in Millfields and I'll tell you _all_ about your dear old mother…we can chat with a few nice expensive bottles of strong wine, what about that?"

The Queen glared at him and shook her head "A few bottles of _drugged_ wine you mean—you dick!"

Reaver threw his arms up in annoyance "if saying I drugged you is your way of coping with the fact you hurled yourself into my lap and throat that time so be it! In my defense—I don't need to drug someone to get them to give in to me, never have…never _will_!"

"Whatever you say, not like you'd admit it anyways! Luckily I don't remember anything; I guess that's a plus to foreign drugs."

"Oh you don't do you? What a pity! If I may say this then my Queen, you have a _very_ eager tongue." She felt her cheeks heat up and her fists clench tighter around the jacket tail she had bundled in her lap, as she gasped with fake horror Reaver leaned in to the crook of her neck and whispered with husky lewdness "Want to be _reminded_ of how _I_ taste?"

The Queen looked over her shoulder at him casually "Are you looking to get spit on? Because I will spit in your face right now if you don't get out of my space." She had a crooked smile across her plump lips which were hovering dangerously close to his, there was a magnetic feeling flashing through her brain that wanted to pull her into his face but she avoided the urge for the sake of herself and their, if you could call it, _friendship_.

Reaver hummed with thought, his green eyes were battling hers, "…and what if I said that I _did_?"

"Your gross, I hope you know that."

"Saliva is hardly a _gross_ thing my dear, I've had more colorful things on my face then that before—have you forgotten who you're talking to?" The Queen threw her head back and began laughing hysterically; she shook her head as if to say "you're hopeless!" Then turned back away from him and let her giggles die down into her palm. "…but really…" she changed the subject through the smile that couldn't be helped "Can't you just tell me about my mom right now?"

"'fraid not your Highness, if I'm seeing it correctly I believe we've arrived home."

The Queen's entire face fell; she looked out the window and saw the lights of the Millfields platform coming into view. It had been an hour already? How much Gin had she drunk to not realize it! She weighed her options carefully, coming upon a rather logical one she explained with a sly smile "Fine, I'll come over—but only to hear what you have to say about her…and I'm bringing Page with me!".

Reaver frowned "Why must you bring _that_ amazon? Can you not find someone more…appealing to look at, one that actually bathes maybe, and has an actual personality?"

The cart came to a screeching halt at the platform which was packed with workers waiting to arrive at their shifts, they stared oddly at the fact only two people exited and weren't all that surprised one of them was Reaver. The Queen had pulled Reaver's coat over her head to mask her identity from her subjects; it wasn't difficult to get through the thick crowd for Reaver's presence scared them off like they were timid pigeons.

"What about that other little friend of yours—the brown haired one with the obviously virgin lips?" He asked after they were out of the crowd and walking towards the cave entrance, she rolled her eyes while pulling the furry collar back around her shoulders "You mean Elise?"

"Ah yes! Elise! Now there is a piece of untenderized meat I would surely _love_ to swallow — why not bring her?"

"Because Page is my closest friend and she sets you straight, and I care about Elise to much to let her fall victim to your vulgarity!"

"Its bound to happen eventually my dear so might as well let it happen now! Oh—and I can think of someone else that sentence refers to as well…but I won't go there until later."

Some part of the Queen's mind shut her ability to speak down; she was unable to respond to his suggestive but uncalled-for remark. She felt her voice become caught in her throat and no matter what she did it wouldn't come out, she hoped Reaver hadn't noticed. But he did move his eyes as far right as they could go as if to look at her, but didn't move his head to actually get her into their view and his eyebrow rose with distant curiosity. She made quick to change the subject, "Will you be accompanying the court during the meeting tomorrow for once? I mean, we've had five and you've been to none, don't you find it important to know how your men are doing constructing the port?"

"I've been busy, my schedule is nothing short of full these days my darling Queen."

"Oh I'm sure…" she countered slyly, "Drowning yourself in the gullibleness of the local poons can be _such _a schedule crowder!"

Reaver started to laugh blissfully as he kept up his conceited-like walking towards the station entrance, "Oh must you be such a downer? Not _all_ of them are morons!"

"Ohhh _please _Reaver…" she picked up her pace by widening her strides until she was at equal speed with him. He looked down at her out of the corners of his eyes; cheekbones raised high in a smile.

"Half of them are so dumb they can't even tell the difference between a pistol and a penis, and when it comes to you…either one can get them killed."

He stopped; the smile was wiped clean off his face. The Queen tried not to crack a smile as he turned his head fully to view her and she could have sworn his skin had paled slightly. She saw his throat bob up and down as he swallowed, and by the way his mouth twisted he was biting his tongue, "Whatever is _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked sorely, his voice high in his throat. The Queen was unable to control herself any longer; she smiled pleasantly at him, her eyes became crescent shaped and her usually wrinkleless skin creased as her cheekbones rose with her widened jaw "…I'm sorry Reaver—have I dug up a few secrets you wanted nobody to know?"

He was caught off guard by her expression, how much she looked like Chaser at that very moment…how much she was _acting_ like Chaser; throwing off her cheap jokes like he wasn't even a human being at all and didn't feel. Chaser, with the occasional help of that beastly woman Hammer, had done an incredible job during the years of the Spire at making him feel quite pathetic and worthless, how shitty it was that that trait was an inheritable one. He wouldn't admit it allowed, but the jokes eventually bore down quite hard and got more then just old; any person alive begins to take it seriously after awhile. He vaguely recalled Chaser taking a crack at whether or not he was sexually diseased in some way a long time ago, and he almost wanted to think he socked her in the face for it.

"Of course not your Highness, I'm a careful man I promise you—but if you insist I can prove it to you _right _now since you seem so genuinely interested!"

Old Chaser's face disappeared from the Queen once he playfully moved to unbutton his trousers, she gasped hysterically and pushed his chest making his arms wobble back to keep his balance. "You're _sick_!" she declared in a disgusted tone, but entertainment was apparent in her voice. She couldn't help but smile a toothy grin that had captivated many men in the past and drew a hot feeling in Reaver's body he couldn't help but bite his lip at. She'd had the tail of his coat, which was much longer then she was, bundled up in her arms and as she backed up towards the glowing entrance into the Millfields sunlight her curly hair draped itself over her face uncontrollably making her drop her full hands and brush it away revealing her drying blouse and buxom chest to his eyes once more. He didn't move as the Queen continued to walk out of the cave with his wonderfully pricey coat dragging along the metal grated floor, instead he licked his lips casually as if to free them of dryness but at the same time the gesture shared vulgar intensity. He recalled the promise he'd made a dying Chaser eighteen years ago…a cruel promise that despite the fact she was now dead he still intended on following through with… to the fullest.

**Writer's Note: **

**I'M SO SORRY! It took me forever to complete this chapter!; I did so many revisions and changed so many things in it, not to mention the writer's block I've been dealing with! And it's a bit long I know…but I hope I did okay.**

**I based the Queen in this story kind of off my Fable Queen in my game, she's in the center of corrupted and pure but incase you haven't grasped the fact yet: she's an alcoholic with a gambling problem who likes to party, but at the same time she's sure to be a good leader to her people and have a fairly good grasp on her self respect. **

**I feel as though I put a lot of information into this chapter, mainly because I wanted to get a few things out. Eh it's a fanfiction, we can write whatever we want. I brought Elise into this because I wanted my Queen to have some friends besides Page, she'll be Elliot's younger sister in this story (I killed off Elliot as done in the game) I also plan on bringing Logan into the story later on, so it's going to be one wild ride. (Of course 97% of it will be on Reaver and the Queen, who will later have a name.)**

**Feedback is so very appreciated, it doesn't take long to comment : ]**

**The next chapter will be a flashback, btw. **


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